Nadia
by ebon-drake
Summary: Lance stumbles across an interesting discovery one night. A bit of a silly crack!fic, I must admit, but it demanded to be written. Contains adult language and themes. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer: **Voltron and its characters, settings, and storyline are copyrighted by World Event Productions, Ltd. and Toei Animation Company. DDP comic concepts and ideas are copyrighted by Devil's Due Publishing. Cover image is a screenshot from Purrsia's website, Voltron Central. References to areas of the Denubian Galaxy (i.e. Azure Quadrant, Onyx Star System, etc.) are from the map developed by Shannon Muir and sanctioned by WEP. All other names, places, characters, and plot bunnies are my own unless otherwise noted. I am in no way affiliated with the aforementioned companies. No monetary profit is being made from this work, and no copyright infringement is intended. Please do not do not re-post or reuse this work without obtaining my written permission first. Thank you.

**Author's Note:** I am aware that Pidge and Hunk are tech sergeants (an Air Force enlisted rank) in VF, and while I have no issues with them being enlisted, as I was enlisted myself at one point, you have to be an officer to be a pilot, so I made them second lieutenants (junior Air Force officers). Since lieutenant and commander are Navy officer ranks, I guess that makes Lance and Keith Navy.

**Nadia, Ch. 1 **

The sound of his alarm blaring for the third time in a row was what finally delivered Lance back to the realm of the living. After slapping the device off, he stared blearily at its electronic display for a moment and then rolled himself out of his rack.

It was early, too God damn early... but he had a job to do. Specifically, he had the balls to 0800 watch in Castle Control, and he had about a half hour to go before he would need to relieve Hunk from his shift. Things had been quiet as of late, so he was sure his watch would be boring (i.e. uneventful), but this was not necessarily a bad thing. Still, the time would most likely creep by very slowly... but thankfully, there was always at least a tech or two on hand within the Castle of Lions control center, so he would have someone to shoot the shit with.

Yawning, Lance stretched his arms out, cracked his neck, and then carelessly ran his hand over his chin. Stubble awaited his touch. No matter. One of the perks about being all the way out in the boonies on Arus, besides the privilege of flying the leonine mecha that formed Voltron's right arm, was that things were infinitely more laid back here than they were back on Earth. An alien threat, he could deal with, but bullshit timewasters like dress inspections were his anathema. As long as the job got done, then who the hell cared about a five o'clock shadow on someone? Snorting disdainfully at the thought, the Red Lion pilot dropped the flannel pants he wore to the ground and padded towards the head.

After a quick shower and flexing unnecessarily in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, he felt a little more awake. For a moment, he pensively glanced down at the number and insignia emblazoned on his left forearm. The tattoo was hideous, and he had the option to laser it off, they all did, but he, like they, chose to keep it. It was a potent reminder of what they were still fighting against.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Lance quickly threw on some clothes, including his leather jacket - Castle Control was kept ball-shrivelingly cold most of the time in order to keep the plethora of comm equipment kept inside cool. He then went out into the common area he shared with the others. No doubt they, with the exception of Hunk, were still snug in their racks, the lucky bastards. The lieutenant poured some coffee into his favorite insulated mug before beating feet to Castle Control.

Two techs were seated in front of the control center's visuals when he finally arrived.

"Good morning, Lt. McClain," chirped the tech, a cute blonde with green eyes and a perky ponytail, on the right.

Her dark-haired male counterpart mumbled a similar greeting before turning back around to stare sullenly at his vid screen. Lance could oddly enough empathize with him; he wasn't a morning person, either.

He addressed the blonde. "Morning..." he peered down at her name tag before looking back up at her face, "Sharia... and please, call me Lance." His smile turned roguish. "All my friends do."

The female colored a little and bobbed her head in assent towards him.

"Of course, Lt. McCl- Lance," she laughed nervously before swinging around in her seat and rejoining her compatriot.

Lance smirked to himself before climbing the stairs to the desk Hunk was sitting at. The ladies couldn't help but love him, and he couldn't help loving them back.

"Hey, bro, how goes the watch? Anything to pass down?" he queried the giant of a man upon reaching the top.

The Yellow Lion pilot leaned back into his seat and brushed aside a lock of shaggy hair that had strayed into his field of vision.

"Hey. Naw, man. Obviously, keep your eyes open, but it's been pretty quiet," he replied.

In all the time he had known him, Hunk had never exactly been one for words.

Lance shrugged. "Alright then, I got this. You have a good one."

The second lieutenant closed his log book with a grateful expression on his face before standing up. He, of course, towered over the older man; but then again, he towered over most people.

"Thanks, bro, and trust me, I will. You would not believe how freaking tired I am right now."

The Red Lion pilot laughed in response. "Alright, later."

Hunk nodded at him. "Later."

He then stepped around Lance and began trudging down the stairs and presumably to his quarters. Or the gym. Whichever.

Lance shrugged again and plopped himself down into the recently vacated chair. Thankfully, it was still warm. A quick perusal of the log book verified Hunk's account. Sighing, he took a swig of coffee and surveyed the view below. The desk commanded an almost 360 degree view of Castle Control. At the edge of the vast round room were the transporters that led to the five Lions. They could not be seen at the moment, since they were inactive, and they would hopefully remain that way. While he preferred action, the type Doom dished out tended to result in civilian casualties, and no one needed that.

Sighing once more, the lieutenant settled into his seat and began to fidget. It was going to be a long night. He considered going back down the stairs to chat with the techs, but he remembered the haggard appearance of the male and his thousand yard stare and reconsidered. It was a Monday morning, and he very well could be nursing a hangover, and no one was really in the mood to talk when they had the bubble guts and a pounding headache. Maybe some hair of the dog would sort him out some after he got off from his shift. Sharia was another option, but it really wouldn't be appropriate to flirt when he needed to stay alert for attacks.

Lance sighed again and leaned back. He probably should have brought a magazine or something...

Out of boredom, he began to open the drawers of the desk and peer into them in order to discover their contents. Unsurprisingly, they yielded nothing but office supplies and a concealed firearm. He dug around the last drawer for a bit, finding nothing in particular until his hand passed over what felt like a small, fat envelope stuffed with something jammed in the very back. Curiosity piqued in him, and so he retrieved the hidden package. Whatever it was, it looked old; the envelope was yellowed with age and heavily frayed around the edges. He opened the flap and withdrew to his surprise a stack of photographs. Oh, yeah, these were definitely old. Printed pictures were an artifact now.

The top picture featured a woman in what looked to be a dated version of the uniform the maids in the Castle of Lions wore now. So she was a former maid here, then? Lance considered her image for a moment. She did not have the almost ethereal beauty of Princess Allura, but she was definitely cute. Her face was heart-shaped with dark eyes, and she had red hair done up in a prim and proper style. He had an appreciation for women of all types, but in particular he was a sucker for redheads. It was too bad that these pictures were not more recent; he would have definitely tried to get with this female. As it was, her face did not look at all familiar to him, but he was sure he would not forget it if she passed by him now.

The Red Lion pilot turned the picture over to see if there was anything written on the back. There was no date, but the words "Happy anniversary, baby... Love, Nadia" were penned there in feminine handwriting. This confused him initially since the other side was fairly nondescript, just the woman smiling demurely, but then he looked at the next picture and his eyes widened. The same maid, whom he presumed was Nadia, was featured on it, but gone was her innocent expression. In its place was one of a complete and utter vamp. Her lips, now pouty, were curved into a self-aware smirk, and one coyly arched eyebrow suggested she had just been told a particularly juicy piece of scandal. Her pose was also more coquettish.

Lance went to the next photo, and now she was biting her lower lip enticingly, her eyes skyward as she brought her hands up to her severe-looking bun. The next image had her with her hair down, and it was a glorious cascade of fire. Her hands were at the buttons of her rather dowdy uniform, and she still had that bewitching come hither look on her face. Some of the buttons were undone, and the first hint of cleavage peeked out from underneath.

Well, now. Things looked like they were about to get interesting. Someone must have left these pictures of their girlfriend or wife in the desk a long time ago and plum forgotten about them. Well, it was their loss, and most definitely his gain. Suddenly engrossed, the lieutenant began shuffling through the rest of the pictures, and what followed was a sequenced retro striptease that had his pulse quickening.

"Oh, Nadia, you dirty, dirty girl," he breathed appreciatively.

Once all of the buttons had been unfastened, the uniform came off and revealed a body so beautiful it could only be described as poetic. A lacy purple bra held back (barely!) breasts so ridiculously large for her tall frame that they inspired the desire to motorboat the crap out of them within him. Matching boyshorts clad the curvaceous hips and posterior her narrow waist flared out into. She pirouetted and turned in such a manner in the subsequent pictures that her bodacious assets could be observed from all angles, and she was back to biting her lip in that way she had been earlier that was such a turn-on for him.

Lance had to stifle a low groan in the back of his throat as he felt himself reacting to this private show. His temptress was probably long-departed, and if she wasn't, then she was indescribably old now, but whomever "Baby" had been at the time the pictures were taken was a lucky, lucky man. Or woman. This thought then promptly had him at full mast.

Suddenly, the end of his watch couldn't come fast enough. Groaning in mild frustration, he adjusted himself through his pants. Thank God he was situated above everyone else; it would not do to walk around Castle Control with a raging erection.

"This is all your fault, Nadia," he softly chided the woman's image, "Do you know how many more hours I have left on my shift?"

The only answer he got, of course, was the same teasing expression she wore on her countenance in virtually all of her pictures. Well, except the first one. In that one, she looked the very definition of a schoolmarm, which was still sexy in its own subtle way. But the rest where definitely up there in the sexy area. Holy shit, they were hot.

Groaning in frustration once more, he placed the pictures on the desk and leaned back into his chair, breathing slowly through his nose and attempting to focus on distinctly unsexy things in order to get his erection to subside. The idea had occurred to him a while back to polish the old Blazing Sword while he was still up here and out of sight of the others, but with his luck, Lotor would choose the exact moment he was almost done to attack, and that prospect had been enough to make him change his mind. As much as it sucked, he would have to wait until his watch was done in order to indulge himself.

However... there was nothing saying Nadia couldn't come along for the ride. Lance carefully inserted the photos back into their envelope and began to stick the entire package into his jacket pocket for later, but he stopped his action before he could complete it when yet another thought entered his mind. Since the photos had been jammed all the way into the back of the bottom drawer, then there was a chance that "Baby" could still be around. He pictured a wizened employee, possibly a widower, and these racy pictures could very well be a memento for him or her from a better time. His conscience got the better of him and he reopened the drawer the envelope had been stored in so he could put it back.

He envisioned Nadia's huge tracts of land again. Well... perhaps "Baby" wouldn't mind if he kept one picture as a souvenir. He opened the envelope and withdrew his favorite one of the heavenly redhead. In it, she was in a particularly delightful pose that thrust her breasts right into the camera. Lance swore he could see into eternity in those quivering mounds. Concealing yet another groan, he stuffed the photo into his pocket and placed the rest back inside the drawer before slamming it shut.

The pilot drummed his fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair, and eventually his erection subsided. About damn time, too. He needed to stretch his legs, and he could now do so without fear of frightening anyone or putting out an eye. He adjusted himself a final time before standing up and walking down the stairs in order to distract himself with conversation with one of the techs.

* * *

Dawn eventually came to Altair. A couple of hours later, Pidge came down to relieve him. After a succinct pass-down, the bespectacled second lieutenant took his seat, and Lance practically ran back to his quarters for a much-needed shower. He mentally replayed Nadia's striptease, and within a few minutes he was able to achieve the release he had so desperately needed earlier.

He in fact used Nadia for inspiration several more times that week, and he found himself looking at the picture he had taken from the envelope a few times every day, sighing wistfully each time he did so. Seriously, why could he not meet a woman like that in this day and age? She was so beautiful, and she looked like the adventurous type, too, in more ways than one.

Well, a man could dream, and so he did, several times, usually in the shower, but also sometimes in his rack.

* * *

On one day in particular, Lance sat in one of the empty seats in Castle Control with a novel in hand. He did not know the title of the book, some warm, fuzzy bullshit about chicken soup for the something or other, and really, it didn't matter. He only needed the book for cover, for within the pages dwelled his picture of Nadia. He was not doing anything inappropriate, for it was neither the time or place to perform such a task, but gazing at her picture comforted him. She must have been a hell of woman. It really was a shame that she was either ancient or dead. Then maybe he could have been her "Baby".

Around him were a few people, a mix of pilots and castle employees, but the buzz of their conversations merely faded into the background for him as his eyes continued to devour the sight of his tempting muse. He absentmindedly brought his mug to his lips for a drink, but the motion went unrewarded. Grunting, Lance set his book down in order to refill the empty container at a coffee machine that was not too far away from him.

The smell of freshly roasted coffee wafting into his nose soon brought a small smile of contentment to the Red Lion pilot's face. In addition to being a connoisseur of nice racks, he was also a bit of a coffee snob. The moment he was putting the coffee pot back into the machine was when he heard it, a loud gasp of mortification.

Startled, he whipped his head around and saw Nanny staring at something on the floor, her dark eyes wide with horror. Her portly body was shaking as if she had just witnessed something inexplicably terrible. Concerned, Lance grabbed his mug once more and ventured over to where the governess stood in order to discover exactly what was amiss. As he came closer towards her, he finally saw what had captured her attention so thusly and froze. At her feet lay Nadia's rather naughty picture.

_...Crap, it must have fallen out of the book..._, he thought to himself, his face reflecting the same horrified look that was on Nanny's.

"W-Where did this come from?" she croaked, her thick accent muddling her words somewhat as she wrung her hands helplessly at the sight of Nadia's rather buoyant charms.

_...Okay, just play it cool and she won't ever know it's yours..._

The lieutenant quickly schooled his features into a befuddled expression. He made a show of looking down at the area the governess continued to gawk at.

"What's wrong, Nanny? I thought I-," he then recoiled. "Wow, what the heck is that? She's just... putting everything out there! That is... that is... highly inappropriate!"

Nanny remained transfixed. "I-I-I thought I had destroyed all copies of those pictures..."

"I don't-," her cryptic statement gave Lance reason to pause, "Wait, you've seen this before?"

The sometimes overbearing caretaker became suddenly evasive, her eyes darting back and forth as she nervously fidgeted with the little cap pinned to the top of her coif, her faded... red... coif. Realization slowly dawned on him with a terrible, horrible clarity. As if to confirm his suspicions, all of the wrinkles and crow's feet in Nanny's round little face became suddenly obvious to him.

"Well... yes," she trailed off ambiguously, "A vile piece of filth a... a girl I used to work with a long time ago made for some stupid... boyfriend of hers. She left one day, but remains of her... debauchery... could still be found around the castle for a long time... I thought I had destroyed all traces of her, but I guess I was wrong... Oh, this is so embarrassing... What would the princess think?"

Despite her words, Lance could read the confirmation of his hunch in her features, her now frighteningly familiar features. Nadia's image became superimposed over Nanny's rotund body, and he could feel the bile rising up hot in his throat.

"Yes... what would the princess think?" he responded weakly.

"Oh... This is so embarrassing," she repeated herself in a moaning voice.

The two of them simply stood there, both staring at the picture on the floor as if it were a venomous reptile that would bite them both.

_...I... got off... to the idea... of Nanny..._

The word ran through the pilot's head endlessly, like some awful, awful mantra.

_...Nadia... is... Nanny..._

_...My dream girl was... is... Nanny..._

Lance felt like he had been punched in the gut. This was so... wrong... on so many levels...

He could feel his bile rising again. He had to get out of here... the longer he stayed, the more likely he was going to ralph right there on the spot, and he did not want to experience admonishment from... her.

His next words came spilling out of his mouth in a rush. "You know what, Nanny? You are right, what would the princess think? Let me get rid of that nasty thing so no one has to see it again... ever."

Without even bothering to wait for a response, Lance hastily bent down, scooped up the picture, and hightailed it away from the governess as fast he could possibly move.

After a while, he found himself alone on one of the many balconies that dotted the outside walls of the castle. It was cool outside, and the sun was just beginning to sink past the horizon. The setting was oddly fitting.

Against his better judgment, he brought the now-tainted photo up and gazed at it mournfully one last time.

_...Why?... Why did it have to be like this?..._

Nadia's gravity-defying attributes became obscured by Nanny's. Lance promptly shuddered and shoved the picture back down so he no longer had to see it. He fumbled momentarily in his pocket for a lighter. Upon finding one, he brought it out and lit the photo on fire. He held onto one corner and watched despondently as the others began curling and retreating inwards toward the center. When the flames encroached near his fingers, he released the picture and witnessed its remains fluttering helplessly down towards the castle lake in the last remaining light of the setting sun.

Even as the bile threatened to burn his throat again, Lance could not help but feel a touch melancholy. No one had died. It was only his fantasy that had been done in, but it had happened in the most brutal and mind-bendingly horrific way possible. A mental image of Nanny in the purple lingerie assailed him. He became wracked by another series of shudders.

"Goodbye," he whispered, his sadness momentarily eclipsing his disgust, when he finally recovered.

He then turned around so he could go back inside. He would get over this situation and forget all about it, but it would take many scalding hot showers before he would feel even remotely clean ever again. Also lots of booze.

He couldn't find it within himself to even approach the envelope containing the rest of the pictures again, let alone destroy it. No, it would stay there at the back of the bottom right drawer, a veritable Pandora's Box whose evil contents would hopefully never be inadvertently discovered and released back into the world again.

* * *

Late one night, Hunk came down to Castle Control in order to relieve Keith from his watch.

"Thanks, big guy," the black-haired commander smiled at his subordinate, "I'm bushed."

The Yellow Lion pilot made a nonchalant gesture with one hand. "Not a problem, chief. Anything to pass down?"

Keith shook his head. "Negative. I know they're planning something, they always are, but they're taking their time. Unfortunately, all we can do right now is watch and wait."

"Roger," Hunk replied, "Well, you have a good one."

The Black Lion pilot got up out of the chair and stretched his limbs. "Yeah, you too, man."

He then left. Hunk sat down and began to swivel in his seat for a few moments. After a time, the idea that maybe someone had left some reading material in one of the desk drawers came upon him. He opened several and rummaged through them without much luck; that is, until he opened the bottom right one.

**END**


End file.
